I wish I could make this up. We arrived at 2 a.m. to get some rest during our long drive from Tennessee to Maryland. When we pulled, the “front desk” worker was standing outside, staring at us, wearing only shorts—no shirt, no shoes, no problem, apparently. We went to the window to pay, and the office was filled with clutter—boxes and trash everywhere.
The room was absolutely disgusting. The smell was horrible, there were holes all over the crappy blanket on the bed from cigarette burns, and there was graffiti on the inside of the front door! The lamp bulb was literally spray-painted red, the faucets were busted and spun without water. We walked in, looked around in complete shock, and then realized we were essentially trapped. A man had pulled up and started arguing with a woman about a drug deal, threatening her by claiming he was a "Blood." My wife and I were terrified and had to wait until the coast was clear before we could get the F out of there. We slept in our car in a Love’s gas station parking lot that night.
This place needs to be shut down for sure. It’s not even called the Bravo Inn—when you pull up, it’s got a different name, and there’s just a piece of paper on the front desk window that says "Welcome to the Bravo Inn." What a shame.
